Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 93
Chapter Title: The Roaring Knight's Challenge
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On the second floor, in one of the rooms, Arsen looked down at Anun lying on the bed.
Anun had not only lost his left arm but had also lost so much blood that he hadn't regained consciousness.
"The arm?"
One of the mages answered Arsen's question.
"We brought it with us. But it's beyond our level to treat."
As the mage said, the healing spells of the mages other than Eloise weren't all that advanced.
They could handle bruises or cuts, but reattaching a severed arm was difficult.
"Eloise, could you do it?"
"Of course."
Eloise took the severed arm and aligned it with Anun's body.
Light began to envelop the stump.
Arsen left Eloise to begin the healing and stepped out of the room. He asked Bazkal,
"So, did you hear what happened?"
"I don't know the details either. When he arrived, he was on the brink of death."
Bazkal reported that last night, Anun had come clutching his severed arm and collapsed right there.
Given his poor condition, they had considered seeking out a healer outside, but since Arsen had ordered them not to leave, they hadn't taken any measures beyond emergency treatment. He added this almost by way of excuse.
Arsen sighed and encouraged Bazkal.
"Yeah, it worked out fine in the end, so good judgment. The healers here are expensive anyway; it wouldn't have been easy to get treatment."
"Was it that bastard who did this to him?"
"Probably. He must be pretty strong."
On the way there, Arsen and Anun had sparred several times. Though Arsen had won each time, Anun's skill was no joke.
He was at least far stronger than Bazkal and could rank in the top five even compared to Belluan's men.
Of course, the details of the fights would affect how one evaluated the opponent's strength...
After a short wait, Eloise opened the door and said,
"It's done. Sir Anun is awake too."
Inside, Anun was marveling at his reattached arm.
He was twisting it this way and that. Spotting Arsen, he bowed his head deeply in greeting.
"I sincerely thank you, Sir Arsen."
"Is the arm okay?"
"Of course. I've seen it done before, but experiencing it myself is incredibly fascinating."
Anun swung his once-severed left arm around boastfully.
Eloise, who had followed him in, said the cut had been so clean there would be no major aftereffects.
Unlike Arsen, who had suffered phantom pains for days after his leg had been practically crushed in the past.
"That's a relief. So, what happened?"
At Arsen's question, Anun sighed and said,
"After arriving, I rested a bit, went to find the guy, challenged him to a fight, and lost."
"You lost?"
Anun nodded.
"Yes, I lost. He was pretty strong. He used some sneaky tricks too, but that's skill, I suppose."
Anun began explaining his actions in detail.
First, after arriving in the city, he took a room at an inn and inquired about Zanark's whereabouts.
Since he was such a famous figure, it wasn't hard to track him down, and soon Anun was able to challenge him to a duel.
Zanark had retired from the excavation team and was now the guard captain of a relatively small group called the "Blood Axe." He claimed it was beneath him to fight a mere knight directly from the start and sent his subordinate first.
Naturally, Anun wore himself out subduing the subordinate, and in that exhausted state, he fought Zanark right after and lost, forfeiting one arm.
It might have ended as a bitter defeat there, but to add insult to injury, while searching for a healer to reattach his arm, he was ambushed by a gang of bandits.
He fought fiercely, but what resistance could an utterly exhausted spearman with one arm severed put up?
Moreover, the opponents were thugs accustomed to fighting knights and even wielded a few relics.
After desperate resistance, he saved his life but sustained severe injuries and lost his weapon, mount, and all the possessions loaded on the mount.
His body in tatters and without even treatment money. But the cold city folk had no desire to get involved in troublesome affairs, so they all ignored Anun.
In the end, the only ones Anun could rely on were Arsen's group, with whom he had a connection.
Even as he calmly recounted his utterly miserable saga, Anun smiled.
"You know, once it actually happened, I really didn't want to die."
He grumbled that dying to mere bandits in an ambush—without even being a knight—would be such a dishonorable end that even the paradise of the gods wouldn't accept him.
"What do you plan to do now? Recover and challenge him again?"
"I'm not sure."
Anun said he had already used up his right to revenge, and challenging again after being spared once would be shameless.
Arsen nodded silently, and Anun continued,
"You saved my life and reattached my arm, so I want to repay you, but as you can see, I have nothing left. I do have quite a bit of property left in Elta, but..."
Naturally, Arsen couldn't go all the way back to Elta for compensation.
Besides, Anun had no business returning to Elta.
The road from the ruin city to Elta wasn't easy enough for a knight without a mount or weapon to travel alone.
When Arsen offered to gift him a weapon and mount, Anun shook his head.
"I appreciate it, but a man of Elta must repay favors. If I accept your proposal, Sir Arsen, then I have no way to repay it."
With that, Anun formally requested to join Arsen's unit.
He knew in vague terms that Arsen was on an adventure toward a specific destination, and it wasn't a journey that would take decades.
The only condition was that Arsen release him afterward so he could return to Elta—essentially a lifetime contract if Arsen wished it.
Naturally, Arsen had no reason to refuse.
"Very well. Welcome aboard, Sir Anun."
* * *
After ordering everyone to rest, Arsen returned to his room to do the same.
Having ridden through the night, fatigue had built up, so the moment he lay on the bed, he fell asleep as if sinking into water.
How much time passed like that? A knock at the door woke Arsen.
"What's the matter? Come in."
One of the subordinate soldiers entered.
"Captain, someone outside is looking for Sir Anun..."
"Anun—! You there, Anun! Come out—!"
Cutting off the soldier's explanation, a voice boomed from downstairs.
The voice was so loud that even on the third floor, it sounded as if it were right beside him.
No one in the inn could have missed it.
As Arsen emerged from his room, he saw Anun coming out from across the hall.
"No way?"
"Yes. It's Zanark, that bastard's voice. Why the hell here?"
"Stay in your room for now."
Having heard the man was looking for Anun, Arsen instructed him to wait and went down to the first floor.
Sure enough, a well-armed gang had taken over the first floor.
Their leader was a middle-aged knight with his hair slicked back and oiled in place.
Spotting Arsen, the knight twitched his eyebrows and said,
"Hmm? Came down because of the commotion? Sorry about that. Looking for someone. Mind cooperating for a bit?"
The middle-aged knight, the roaring Zanark, demanded cooperation rudely without any real apology.
Arsen asked calmly, as if speaking to a stranger,
"And who might you be?"
"My name is Zanark. Zanark of the Furious Voice, the Roaring Zanark. You've heard of me, right?"
Arsen nodded silently.
Satisfied that his fame had spread far, Zanark smirked smugly and said,
"Anyway, I'm here for someone, so cooperate. Doesn't seem like he'll come out willingly, so I might have to search the inn."
"What kind of person?"
"A guy who came to kill me, the mighty sector guard captain. I pitied him and only cut off one arm before sending him off, but on second thought, as guard captain, granting personal mercy like that isn't right. Turns out he slunk in here."
He wasn't lying outright but was subtly painting Anun as an assassin or criminal.
If Arsen hadn't known Anun, he might have backed off easily.
"I hear it was a legitimate duel? You even sent your subordinate first."
"...You know him, huh?"
Arsen nodded silently in response and asked,
"If you won the duel, isn't that the end? Why go this far?"
"He came all the way here over some trivial grudge I barely remember and challenged me to a duel. The guy's not right in the head. Can't just let a lunatic like that roam the city."
Through Zanark's excuses, Arsen could guess why he had gone to the trouble of tracking Anun here.
Even if Anun had lost the duel, he must have left a deep impression on his opponent.
At the time of victory, intoxicated by success or deeming it dishonorable to finish off a defeated foe, he had let him go.
But cooling off, he regretted sending away someone vicious enough to cross several estates over a past grudge, unsure how he might retaliate.
Though it seemed unlikely to work, Arsen tried to persuade him.
"Sir Anun seems to have accepted the outcome of the duel. Is this really necessary?"
"Nonsense. Glib tongue means he's upstairs, huh? Get out of the way, kid."
As expected, Zanark showed no sign of believing him.
Half the conflicts in the world probably arose from genuine intentions failing to reach between people.
Arsen sighed inwardly, tapped his sword to make a metallic clank.
Zanark scowled and asked,
"What's that mean?"
"That man is under my protection as a guest. Leave."
At Arsen's declaration, Zanark laughed as if exasperated.
To the eye, Arsen was just a young knight with unusually strong mana, nothing more.
Such a kid holding his head high and ordering him around wasn't something to take seriously.
"This punk thinks he can—without fear..."
But Zanark's laughter vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
More precisely, after seeing Bazkal, Maroon, and a large number of soldiers and mages standing behind Arsen.
Even Anun, still looking somewhat sickly but with his arm fully reattached, appeared, crumpling Zanark's face hideously.
"Got quite a few... friends, huh?"
"At least more than you."
Unlike his confident self moments ago, discomfort was evident on Zanark's face as he realized he faced three or four knights plus mages—a large force.
Arsen knew what being a sector guard captain entailed. Like the action leader of an organization controlling a specific sector.
Not an easy position, but unless it was a major sector like the Black Lion's guard captain, he couldn't privately muster forces to overwhelm Arsen's group.
In fact, Zanark's followers numbered one knight and seven soldiers—a clear disadvantage against Arsen's forces.
In his Blood Axe sector, it might be different, but in this neutral outer sector, a minor organization's guard captain had limits.
Zanark gritted his teeth and glared at Arsen's group.
Unable to do much didn't mean he could back down tamely.
Not being a famed knight, getting pushed around by nameless kids would ruin his reputation.
Thinking of his built-up fame crumbling like a sandcastle, he couldn't retreat here.
"A duel!"
His voice—small by his standards, thunderous to ordinary folk—boomed.
"A duel?"
"Yeah, a duel! That guy barged in and challenged me first, so I sure as hell have the right to challenge him back!"
Arsen frowned slightly but didn't refuse.
Indeed, since Anun had initiated the duel, he had an obligation to accept one.
After a moment's thought, Arsen nodded in agreement.
He judged it better to settle it definitively with a duel.
Having taken Anun under his command hours ago, Arsen had a duty to protect him.
"Fine. A duel it is. But Sir Anun's condition isn't great yet, so I'll stand in for him. I've learned martial arts from him, so by that right. You'll fight yourself, I assume?"
A few spars had subtly become "learned martial arts," but Zanark had no way to know.
Zanark's cunning mind turned at Arsen's words.
Mana aside, a kid in his early twenties had clear limits to his skill, no matter how much he'd trained.
"Fine. I'm a bit tired from the long trip... Let's rest a bit and fight."
Zanark's voice brimmed with certainty of victory.